


Sehnsucht

by JustABetaWriter



Series: Beyond Words [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Octopunk Media's Detroit Evolution
Genre: Brief suicidal thoughts, Detroit Evolution, Gavin Reed Needs a Hug, Gavin Reed is Bad at Feelings, Gavin Reed-centric, Hurt Gavin Reed, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), RK900 is called Nines, Serious Abuse of Coffee by Gavin, Sleep Deprivation, Soft Upgraded Connor | RK900, Unreliable Narrator, Very Brief Hospital Visit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:15:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24160438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustABetaWriter/pseuds/JustABetaWriter
Summary: (n.)Yearning; wistful longing for something unachievable.Gavin doesn't sleep well on the best of nights. So when his partner is attacked, deactivated in his arms, and trapped in a state of paralyzing superposition, he doesn’t even bother to try afterwards.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: Beyond Words [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810975
Comments: 6
Kudos: 136





	Sehnsucht

**Author's Note:**

> (FYI: This has the feel of a delirious/dissociative writing style, so if you are sensitive to that sort of thing, you have hereby been warned. Also TW for Surrealness, and Gavin's worsening mental state )
> 
> This fic has been blessed by my wonderful Beta Reader daysforrain, I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as they did!

Gavin sits on the ledge of his apartment building roof, his feet dangling over the edge as he lights his cigarette. The sky is filled with a cloudy haze, hiding the dimly lit stars behind the transparent layer of milky white. He looks across at the bleak skyline, faintly black painted over the deep blue of the horizon, wondering briefly, for a moment far too long, if anyone would miss him if he stumbled, and tripped over the edge into oblivion. Tina would be sad of course, as would the rest of the precinct, but he could finally sleep for a while. He was almost that desperate, almost to the point where he would do anything to sleep more than an hour or two. 

The sleeping pills he was prescribed weeks ago did little to help. They only trapped him in the nightmares, leaving him gasping for air, deliriously panicked under the waves of almost consciousness, refusing to let him break the churning waters of his mind and startle into awareness. He almost preferred waking up with the overwhelming sense of dread smothering him, with shivers burrowing into his spine and refusing to leave him with any warmth besides the desperate puffs of smoke burning him into charred embers. 

He has spent more nights here, an over-brewed cup of lukewarm sludge in one hand and the smooth comfort of trailing dusty smoke in the other, than in his bedroom, trapped in the blinding darkness in the disgust of his own thoughts. He found comfort in the subtle bitter-sweetness of unapologetically rich coffee, savoring each sip of tepid familiarity. He found comfort in the irritant drag of nicotine, in tasting the cough inching up his throat as he exhaled impurities into the midnight air. He found comfort in the ever unchanging skyline, the sight of buildings etched into the atmosphere, slowly shifting from monochrome into faint magenta as the sun crept over the horizon. 

-

Sometimes, Gavin wasn’t alone. 

Sometimes Nines would stay, pressing Gavin into clean sheets and holding the fragile pieces of him together, as the need to disappear into anything to escape himself overwhelmed him. Gavin hadn’t slept for more than half a handful of hours, in nearly a decade, before that first night with Nines. He craved those nights, to feel enveloped in the knowledge that he could let go, to feel secure in the fact that Nines would keep him, even as Gavin turned cold and angry in defense of his vulnerability. He knew it wouldn’t last, and soon Nines followed him to the roof, holding him too sweetly, more than he would ever deserve, as they sat on the edge of a roof, watching the moon creep overhead, yearning for a better time. 

Sometimes Gavin preferred this. Feeling the cold breeze rustling through their clothes, the lukewarmth of Nines arm cradling him, the smell of grief from dust as it’s swallowed by droplets twisting and turning on the wind, the distant rumble of the brief ending of fleeting life, the taste of disapproval and satisfaction on his tongue. Rather than the overwhelming sweetness of Nines’s words as he treasures, lavishing praise and unwanted truths, as he folds Gavin into the ever softness of blankets, hiding him in the comfort of impossible loving arms. Rather than the soft edge of oblivion creeping into his mind as the world fades into a background blur, and the cruel images his mind creates slip into paralyzing fear as the minutes tick onward in meaningless inadequacy. 

-

For weeks after that first unbearable night, Gavin would refuse to even try, seeing the red flashing in his vision every time he dared to blink. Brushing aside the concern of his partner, asking for space to process, and to marinate in his own failure of protecting the most important person in his life. He got used to how the caffeine flushed his skin with a poor imitation of restfulness. He got used to the sunken bags under his eyes slowly leaving his face more gaunt, highlighting the scar painted over his features. He got used to tucking shaking fingers into his pockets as Nines’ flickers into red for a split tainted second as he sees Gavin each morning after every night apart. He got used to waving away the impossible hours spent on cold-cases, hiding the nights spent huddled over his kitchen table as he tried to drown out the sound of Nines’ gasping breath, crying for help tucked in an alleyway, replaying over, and over, in his mind.

They didn’t talk about it yet, even with the new normal coloring his days, the freedom in pressing lips, capturing smugness and hints of smiles as they lose track of the present in each other's arms for brief snatches of time, tucked away in coffee breaks and longing eyes. The easy rhythm of conversation flowing freely as they hurried after leads and searched for answers. The small stumbles as Gavin sees the concern filling Nines’ face in the mirror when he thinks Gavin isn’t looking.

Then Gavin passed out. 

Gavin doesn’t remember what happened, but he would never forget the look of utter devastation on Nines’ face when he opened his eyes in a brief moment of lucidity to an agonizing headache and the taste of copper on his lips, before promptly dropping back into unconscious nothingness. 

The next stretch of time is a disorientating blur. 

The brightness of a hospital lights, the itchiness of the iv in his arm, a hand curled into his, the warm feeling of safety never leaving his side, the quiet anger-sadness pressed behind yellow flickering lights, the shame in being comforted for nightmares he couldn’t even remember enough to vocalize.

The silent stillness of an unused bedroom now filled, the careful hands guiding his to the softness of neglected fur, the tender warm cloth brushing across his face, the taste of broth in warm cups far, the long stretch between him the edge of restful oblivion.

He came back into himself slowly, each piece of awareness click into being with every drop of water against the outside glass. Feeling the softness of another pressed into his side, hearing the steady breaths of restfulness echo into the quiet room, seeing their hands tangled into completion over Gavin’s chest as they slept. Shifting more into Nines’ body curled against his, Gavin felt the sigh of satisfaction against his neck as Nines pulled him impossibly closer. Nines knew Gavin was finally more awake than he had been in nearly a week, but the smell of dying dust drifted in through the cracked window, and Nines was helpless to the sound of thunder in the distance, and the feeling of Gavin squeezing the hand pressed over his still beating heart. 

They would talk in the morning, when the storm had finally passed. 


End file.
